


Elem

by bloomingbellflower



Category: Original Work
Genre: Age Difference (because one of them is like ~300), Anal Sex, Crush, Explicit Sexual Content, Fantasy Kingdom, I did it again, King Sex, M/M, Non-Human Character, Oral Sex, Power Play, Tender Sex, sexual service
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 11:44:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20063485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloomingbellflower/pseuds/bloomingbellflower
Summary: Rey said he was willing to do anything for his King, but he was  lying; he’s too frightened to put his life on the life. He was a typical servant in the palace of an awe-inspiring King who saved the King’s life by a stroke of luck. The city expects him to become captain of the royal guard, but Rey is a lover, not a fighter. This is a promotion he neither needs nor wants.The King is a powerful man surrounded by godlike legend, but  just like any of his human subjects, he harbors secret desire and loneliness. A handsome servant with a crush and a good heart might be able to fill a position he wants to instate in the castle. It involves having sex.Inspired by the exchange “And what will you do for me?” / “For you, my Lord, anything.”





	Elem

**Author's Note:**

> And so I lose another work to AO3. After I post something here, I think “OTHER PEOPLE ARE READING THIS ????” and then I can never look at it again. However, this COULD become a multichapter thing?? Who knows!
> 
> Sorry if you see any missed caps; I intentionally didn’t use them for The Style, but went back and edited the story when I realized I wanted to publish it.

Rey had a crush on the King, but then again, every capable citizen in Star probably did. He was the light of their lives.

The legend was this: long ago, a star fell to Earth and enchanted the four elements: water, earth, air, and fire. They came to life in the shape of a man (then, a baby). The baby survived miraculously, feeding on moonlight and rain, until it was old enough to walk. It learned language from forest animals and sought a home among the people of the world, who were at war over incredibly rare, magical objects— the very shooting stars that had brought the boy to life. Not knowing the boy held the same mystical powers they sought, every village turned the boy away. 

The boy decided that, if no human would grant him a home, he would make one. He returned to the mountaintop of his birthplace and began to build a kingdom. The earth shaped itself at his command, and hundreds of adobe huts were baked in the fire of his own hands. Rivers diverted themselves into waterfalls dropping into lakes surrounded with fertile soil. When the clouds parted, revealing the mountaintop, the boy had become a King of his own empty city, a haven for those taking shelter from war.

Refugees, all welcomed warmly, streamed into the city in waves. Along with them came people hungry to use the King’s power for their own gain. Perhaps they could even find the falling star, powerful enough to create life itself, that remained in the King’s possession.

Half of the city pledged their lives to protecting the new kingdom of Star, and a great military was formed. At its head was the King, who, despite disliking violence, swore not to waste his people’s lives. Generations later, the war against the outside world still raged. But the King lived on too: hundreds of years old, wise and glowing with health.

As for the falling star, it was hidden somewhere in his castle. The castle was an enormous, mazelike place that nobody but the King could navigate. Beneath it lay an underground labyrinth of even greater magnitude. It would take years to find every room. It was the last failsafe: if the kingdom fell, the shooting star was still hidden. The only downside to such a complex castle was that it required quite a lot of servants to maintain it.

That’s where Rey came in: a servant, twenty-four, with a massive crush on the King, who he only got to lay eyes on once every two weeks or so. But it was enough for him, as it needed to be for everyone else who loved him.

*** 

Rey hadn’t meant to save the King’s life. Well—it wasn’t like he was regretting it, he would have tried anyways. But he’d never held a weapon in his life, and what happened was truly a fluke.

It was during the royal procession, when the King walked down the streets of Star accompanied by his royal guard. Together they walked a circle around the whole city. Rey always found an excuse to be outside, clipping topiary, when the King returned after the seven hour process: sweaty, hangry, sick of his ceremonial outfit. He always looked inhumanly resplendent in his polished silver armor when he first left the castle, but after returning, he looked like—a normal man in his twenties wearing armor, tired and ready for a snack (the King no longer consisted on moonlight and rain).

Rey watched the King closely, as did the house servants scattered near him and the straggling citizens who’d followed the King back to his castle. Clearly, his radiance had a downside. None of them noticed the captain of the royal guard unsheathing his sword.

He struck at the King, cleaving deep into his left shoulder. If he were a normal man, the arm might have been lost. The king cried out, and the captain yelled a curse—he’d been aiming for the neck.

Half the guard sprang to attention, and the other half, the lot of them traitors, wrestled to keep them away. The king’s hands flashed terrifyingly, full of fire, and the captain stepped back, wary of being burnt. But the King, whose powers were better for frightening armies than for one-on-one combat, was otherwise unarmed. If the captain’s sword got past the King’s defenses, he would die.

Rey’s hands were buried in the bushes, and he was frozen, like all other members of the Court. But seeing the confusion and terror in the King’s eyes thawed him out. Fury burned hot in his chest. He bellowed a cry and charged at the captain with his garden shears outstretched like a mighty weapon.

He ducked low, or perhaps tripped, and cut a deep gash in the captain’s leg. The captain screamed and lost his focus on the King. Seeing the blood, Rey passed out then and there. But other court members heeded his action and rushed the scene. The vizier ran in and escorted the King away while a half dozen stablehands flying-kicked the traitor guards in the heads, like they’d been rehearsing for that very moment. Rey felt himself being lifted from the ground and carried away. He had to fight not to throw up, even as fellow servants all around him started to scream his name with awe and joy.

*** 

“You saved the king’s life,” the vizier told him, quite intensely, as Rey met with her the next day, after the excitement had died down and the king was no longer in danger. “We give you our eternal gratitude.” 

“It was nothing,” Rey said, still completely out of it, if he was being honest.

“Your skillful display with no weapon but those gardening shears was remarkable. Everyone agrees! Even the king himself wants to give you a promotion.”

“A promotion?” said Rey, lifting his head. It would be kind of nice to earn more money. The servants were paid well, but his father back home lived on only half his earnings.

“Yes,” confirmed the vizier. “And considering we have _ several _vacancies in the royal guard, we are looking for several trustworthy individuals to fill their ranks. And we can think of no better person to replace the captain than the brave, talented man who dispatched him.”

“I…!” 

“You’re speechless,” nodded the vizier, pleased. “The King will meet with you one-on-one tomorrow and have you swear fealty. It’s a pleasure to work with you from now on, sir.” 

***

Between bouts of panic, Rey considered whether he would be willing to commit as a member of the guard, even if he were demoted from captain and allowed to learn swordsmanship from scratch.

The short answer was _ no. _He loved his king dearly, cried in relief that he hadn’t been badly harmed that day, respected him with all his might. But he couldn’t imagine himself risking life and limb daily for his King. 

Rey was sickened by violence as well. As a small child, his home had been swarmed by raiders from outside the kingdom. He’d huddled beneath the bed, listening to his father’s protests and then his deathly silence. His father had been stabbed in the chest, and while he’d survived, the awful scar remained. 

Since then, Rey had been plagued by nightmares, and the sight of blood still made him faint. He wanted to find a good man and grow old with him, not spend his life mowing down enemies of the crown. And now he had to convey this to his King.

*** 

It was his first time speaking with the King directly, let alone being the only one in the room with him.

Rey had been told what to say and how to act, roughly. Even if it were not tradition, nothing would have stopped him from falling to his knees before the throne. He heard the vizier’s introductions and the king’s murmured responses but did not lift his head.

“Rey,” the King said once the swish of skirts and the clank of armor had left the room. The King went on to thank him profusely for his act of courage, but Rey was too busy thinking about how his name sounded on the King’s lips to absorb it.

“Look up.”

Rey looked up and saw the king’s eyes, dripping with power like honeycombs, gazing straight into him. He was devastatingly brilliant. “I sense your uncertainty,” he went on, which was nice of him to say considering Rey was whitish-green and shaking like a leaf. “Wertz tends to make hasty promotions; it’s how we ended up with our last captain. Are you sure you’re willing to take up this mantle?” 

Rey sniffled and couldn’t figure out how to say “yes” or “no,” so he said, “I will do whatever is asked if it comes from you, my King.”

“Oh? And what will you do for me?” Rey had been studying the ground again, but the King’s strong fingers tilted his chin up, even as he knelt, and trembled, on the ground before the throne.

“For you, my lord, anything.” The words came out rote and rehearsed, as much as Rey wanted them to be sincere. The king’s gaze intensified as he minutely adjusted Rey’s head until they stared dizzyingly into each other’s eyes. Then he broke into a smile.

“I knew it,” the King said. “I only caught a glimpse of him, but I knew the man who saved me was the most beautiful I’ve ever seen.”

Rey squeaked. He’d gotten desensitized to comments like those ever since he’d turned eighteen, but he’d never in his life expected to hear it from the King.

The King seemed to enjoy the moment, but his voice gentled. He looked concerned. “Do you consider the life of a captain desirable?”

“I’ll do anything,” Rey repeated, his voice breaking, trying to sound like a guard of his stature.

“Ah, but aren’t you frightened of what might be required of you?”

“I—perhaps, but—“ his sense of duty outweighed his misgivings, he wanted to say, or courage is not the absence of fear but fighting despite of it, he wanted to say, but his throat stuck and he could not. Shame hotly flushed his eyes and face—he was showing his true colors to his King. He tried to apologize or excuse himself, but at the worst moment the memories flooded back: his father’s terrible bloody wound after the raid, the devastation the riot left on his small childhood home, and— 

“Shhh,” soothed the King, and Rey realized his tears were quite horrifyingly visible. “My life is not worth more than any of my citizens, and I would never force anyone to fight for me. Be at ease, Rey. There are other promotions to give you.”

The king’s mercy made Rey cry even harder, but he tried to pull himself together as the King slid off his throne and squatted in front of him.

“Please, if I may,” Rey whispered, “I don’t want to be taken out of your service. You are the light of my life, time spent in your company increases my happiness tenfold. I—I love you.” That last part slipped out on accident, but it was too late to take it back. “I want...I only wish to serve you, my lord, though I know I’m incapable of so many things—“ 

“You are capable of plenty,” the King said, even though Rey was fit to die of embarrassment. “I find it very sweet that you want to work so closely with me.” 

“Of course! If there’s anything else I can do, anything at all, I—“ Rey broke off, not trusting himself not to humiliate himself any further. The King was inches from him; Rey wanted to memorize every part of his dazzling face, his deep orange eyes and the stubble newly rising on his cheeks and the pink flush of his lips….

The gap closed and in a heartbeat those lips were against his. Rey sucked in a gasp, realized he was breathing the King’s air, froze, his back breaking out clammy with sweat but trembling with excitement and fear. Electricity zinged through his body like a swarm of eels as his unsure hands touched the King’s shoulders, then pulled back quickly and laid flat on the ground.

The King pulled away first, eyes glinting with kindness and a little mischief. “Was that all right, Rey?”

“I....” Rey’s brain words weren’t functioning, his face was red as an apple. “I….I didn’t know you had those, umm...”

“Those what?”

“I didn’t know you were...mortal?” Rey said clumsily, “that you...ever kissed anyone, or wanted to? I thought your body was made of fire and light or something…”

Truly, he’d _ hoped _the King was as mortal as he was, and thought about it often, but that wasn’t something anyone else could ever know about.

The King laughed. “Rey,” he said, finally properly kneeling next to him, “I do have a mortal body, with the same desires as many other mortal bodies. If I can be candid, I’m currently not looking for a life partner but for someone to share those desires with. I would very much like to kiss you again, and go further, if you’re willing…” 

Rey covered his face with his hands and let loose one undignified laugh-sob noise, thinking that _ he _was the one made of fire now, his whole body was starting to burn. He looked up and couldn’t bring himself to say the word, but he said “Are you asking me to…”

“Yes, Rey,” the King said, “this is the position I would offer you in place of a position as a guard. Will you accept?” 

“...god, yes.”

*** 

Every time Rey had passed this bedroom, he’d averted his eyes as though it was sacreligious, but now he didn’t know where to look—the King’s silky dark red bedsheets, the walls, the soft carpet, the King himself, who was just—taking his shirt off. Rey didn’t think he could handle it if he looked over there. He might spontaneously combust.

He copied the King, taking off only his shirt and folding it unevenly on the corner of the bed, but the King barely gave him time. He was on him, caressing his face, then leaned down over him and kissed him again.

It was maybe the most sudden, remarkable, magical experience of Rey’s life, and they hadn’t even gotten past first base yet.

He was...well, his body was reacting appropriately, but it was embarrassing too. He shifted during the kiss but the King seemed to follow him, pressing into him. His body was sturdy and strong, marked only by the thin cut on his left shoulder—the only remnant of the attack. Rey tried to relax, submitting further to the exploratory touch of the King’s lips and tongue, losing himself in the weight that pinned him to the bed.

When the King’s hips moved just slightly, the bed was so soft that Rey simply sank into it further. His imprint would last forever unless the bed was magic or something. Would anyone be able to tell it was him? Wait, would the castle know about their arrangement? When he was pondering this, the King more deliberately brushed his crotch over his; Rey had gotten distracted, and he jumped violently. The King’s hand, which had been rubbing soothing circles on Rey’s chest below his nipple, moved, and the King pulled away so he could lower the band of Rey’s heavy woolen pants. They were rough, thick material, good for servants who often had to be down on their knees scrubbing floors. Come to think of it, his legs weren’t particularly pretty either.

“My king…” he said, but the King drew away his pants and underwear, revealing him. His legs were pockmarked with scars and dry and rough from labor. His knees were chapped, like his elbows. He hadn’t been taking care of himself, at least not up to his old standards. 

The king touched his—his erection, cupping the flesh between his hands, and Rey wanted to start screaming at the top of his lungs like someone having an orgasm.

“You’re beautiful, Rey,” the king said warmly. It sounded so different coming from _ him. _Rey covered his face with one hand, and the King gently moved it so they could keep kissing.

But the hand on his cock never left, moving up and down erratically and lightly, and soon Rey was no longer silent—his breath escaped him in short whimpering gasps, he kept jerking around and squirming beneath the King, he accidentally raised his head and knocked his teeth into the King’s lip when a finger followed down the vein on the underside.

“S—ahhhh,” Rey said, wishing his apology was slightly more eloquent. The King just smiled.

“I will need you to trust me, Rey,” he said, “but more importantly I need to trust you—you must tell me if I hurt you or if you no longer want to continue, all right?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Call me Elem.” The King’s eyes bored down into Rey’s as he removed his hands. “Just for this.”

“Y...yes, Elem. I’ll tell you if anything is wrong.”

The King nodded. Some of his seriousness faded as he brought out a small jar of oil and coated his fingers in it, then clenched his hand, warming it; Rey wondered why he’d have to do that if his body was made of fire-?

“Ahhhh...nnnnn!”

The hand slipping beneath them and then pressing against his hole didn’t feel supernatural, it just felt like a warm mortal hand. But it did turn to fire when a finger slipped inside him, stretching him, and especially when the other hand returned to his cock. 

Rey could have stayed like this _ all fucking day _but the King (Elem!) paused, then said, “Rey, would you help me take off my pants? I am getting quite uncomfortable.”

They shifted, trying not to get their hands and arms tangled, as Rey drew the trousers down—they were made of a much finger, he meant finer, material, of course. The King ass—assisted him by lifting his hips! Rey almost couldn’t look at his hard cock directly, it was too arousing, he wanted to cry.

“I think I’m going to cum!” Rey said suddenly, alarmed. The King slipped a second finger inside him and stroked his cock again and Rey definitely did cum, all over himself and even maybe on the King a little bit. As he was coming down from it, shaking slightly, the King took his hands away to give him a break.

“Wait, m—my Lord,” Rey said, trying to disguise his panting; he felt incredible, emboldened even. He more or less stuck his hands into the King’s nether regions, it was still impossible to concentrate on what he was doing. He managed to take the King’s cock in his hand and start rubbing it up and down tentatively. The King sighed through his nose. His cock was flushed and red; Rey realized guiltily that he had left the King waiting for a while.

“I’m sorry,” he started, to which the King shook his head.

“Pardoned. If you continue.”

After about forty seconds of touching, Rey realized he wanted to taste very badly, but he wasn’t sure how to ask. “My King, I would like to...umm...”

He was sure the King got his meaning, but he stayed silent and waited for Rey to finish his question. Rey squeezed his eyes shut and said “use my mouth” very quickly.

“Of course, but just for a bit. We’ll have plenty of time for something proper later.” Which made Rey hard again.

The King kneeled up on the bed, straddling Rey’s chest so he had just enough room to move his arms. He licked the underside of the head, where precome beaded, and thought, he really does taste like a normal man. Mostly like salt. But it was good—on a stronger try, Rey could swear he could taste something beneath the salt, but it was hard to identify.

He wrapped his lips around the head plus the first inch or so, covering the rest with his hands. Rey sucked, then moved his lips to just the head and sucked again, craving more and trying to find out what it was—it was sweet but kind of earthy? What the fuck was the King made of? Maybe it was the star. He placed a hand on the King’s thigh, bracing himself, going deeper.

“Rey. Nnn—Rey!” 

He felt a hand on his head and saw the King looking at him with dilated eyes and parted lips; he’d accidentally gotten carried away.

When the King resumed stretching Rey it was with far more urgency than before, but Rey didn’t need it, he wanted to beg for the King to just be inside him. Moans and tiny sounds were torn from his lips with every twitch of the King’s fingers, and the King himself quieted until he barely seemed to breathe, his eyes full of hunger.

“My lord,” Rey said in a small voice, “you said you wanted to know if you hurt me, and—I’m not in pain but it feels like I am, I need you, I…”

“Rey,” the King said softly, almost chiding him for pulling the card. But he slid his fingers out, replacing them a long few seconds later with the tip of his cock.

Rey cried out, and kept doing so when the King pushed in further; all while he was adjusting, Rey stammered and covered his pink face and tried to calm his electrified body.

The King slid out, lighting up his nerves the other way, then in again...the pace felt slow and inexorable, and Rey had no idea how fast he was actually going. “My lord, I—ahhhh—faster,” he started, before devolving into fractured syllables.

“Ah,” the king said reverently. He definitely started going faster; his whole body thrust back and forth and tossed Rey like a petal in the wind. The King wrapped his hand around Rey’s cock again, seemingly tripling the friction.

Rey closed his eyes and opened his mouth, heard himself say “I’m—please!” and then lost himself to sensation at its peak. 

The King came too, choosing to pull out and paint Rey’s stomach and crotch and thighs; his cry was strained, low and musical, and to Rey’s ears completely perfect.

_ Holy shit _ , Rey realized, _ this is my job now, I just got paid for this. Fuck yeah! _


End file.
